The Course of Life
by PetPetAngel
Summary: He could not pretend that those years had not passed. [Implied CosmoTimmy if you squint?]


-

The Course of Life

Written by:

PetPetAngel

Note: Okay... This is like... Depressing.

Summary: He could not pretend that those years had not passed.

-

Wanda sighed softly and placed her head in her palm, feeling that sense of sadness towards her husband come back. He was off seeing him again, and Wanda didn't blame her husband in the slightest. Despite this, it saddened her that her husband would be so haunted by him, after so many years still plagued by his smiling face and yet how he would relish in it so. She felt bad for him, her heart going out to him in the same way it always did when he was sorrowed, but somehow this time it was so much more than her feelings for him. It was her feelings for both of them, and the dread that had recently locked itself in place, making itself at home in her stomach.

Like she had already said, she did not blame her husband. She just felt bad for him, and the thought that one day, those visits he took everyday would grow more frequent and then die out. It was just like the course of life. You started out small and then you reached your prime, until slowly, slowly, you would diminish. It was sad, but it was true. It was not as if her Cosmo was going through his last stages, of course not. Cosmo was in his prime, but his sadness held him locked in place. Something told Wanda that he would never quite leave it, either.

Cosmo had been visiting him more lately, and for longer amounts of time. Sometimes, Cosmo would stay there all night, just watching him. He would watch and watch him, thinking of before everything had changed. He would go back and talk to the one who could not hear him, both literally and figuratively. It crushed her heart that he could not hear her husband, but Cosmo still went on as if nothing had ever changed. As if it was still back in the day, and they were all best friends and it was all okay. They had both kept their promises, but they, and by they she meant Cosmo, could not pretend it was okay forever.

He could not pretend that those years had not passed.

But he would go on pretending until it ripped his heart to shreds, until the day that the visits would stop. And he would cry and scream in anguish, wish it was him, anything, everything to change it all. He would wish that he could take away those lines that had set themself into his face, and he would pretend even after that it would be okay. But by then he would know it was not, because then he truly would be gone. He would be gone forever, and the visits would stop. And like she knew he would, he would scream and cry out in pain, because that was the course of life.

Sometimes, she would go with him. But as time progressed, she would feel herself begin her descent to tears, and she would leave because she had to be the strong one for him. She would then cry in silence, away from the present and away from the past, just as he did. Whenever she went with him, as time progressed, she felt out of place. She felt as if she were interrupting or protruding. It was their moments. It was Cosmo's time with him, not hers. Those moments were for Cosmo and they would never be for her as they had been for Cosmo. They had shared things that she had not been part of, and she would not try and make herself part of it. It was all for them forever.

But she would still hear. She would always hear her husband's haunting voice speaking to him, oh so softly, just as he would when she was upset. He would do it as if to comfort _him,_ but she knew that it wasn't for him, it was for himself. He would whisper quietly, hauntingly, in that way that she had only recently found out he could, using that tone that she knew was just for him, and never for her. It was for both of them forever, but never her. She would never beg for attention by stealing away his. Cosmo considered it sacred and she would not go against the privacy he so desperately felt he needed.

And sometimes, Cosmo would go so back into before that he cried. He would go so far, he would go too far back. To when they first met perhaps, but it would always be too far back because it was always with him. And when he went too far back, he would cry. And those tears would come, not because the visits stopped, but because they were still going, because it would seem that they would never end, and it would be a reminder to them all. Cosmo could not escape his tears no matter where or when he went, and he would forget his pride and everything else if only to change it all and turn back the hands of time. But neither he nor she could stop the course of time. The course of life.

And it was all bittersweet. Because they would always be together it his heart, but it would taunt him and hurt him and sometimes, Wanda thought that he might actually hurt himself if the time came. The time that the visits would stop. It would as fate laid it out, and no matter how much Cosmo wanted that to change, it would not, for fate did not work that way. For three people fate would not turn back time, for three people fate would not change time. For three people, fate would not change everything that had already passed. For three people, fate would not take away those wrinkles. Fate would not allow it.

And so, Cosmo would cry out, and she would comfort him as best as she could. She would be the first to admit that that comfort was not much, but still she would not leave her husband alone to suffer; abandon him. And he would say to her, "Why Wanda, why? Why must it be this way? What made it play out this way? Why, Wanda, _why?_ Won't you tell me why? Please, Wanda, please, tell me why." And it would break her heart and he knew it, but he could not help it and he would go on, "Why, Wanda, please. Why does it have to be this way? Why?"

Softer and softer he would speak until his voice vanished under the layers of sorrow he felt.

And she would say in those times that he went too far back, quietly, not in the voice of a wife but in the voice of a mother, "Because Cosmo, because. Cosmo, oh... Cosmo, please, you must understand, you must!" And she would persist, despite his choking sounds that she knew would interrupt her, "Because Cosmo, it is the course of life, and he must fall into that course at some time or other, and you cannot hold him back. You cannot change the course of life, you just cannot. You are not stronger nor more powerful than anyone else, and you must---"

And here he was when he would interrupt her, his anger coming in nonsensical waves that would wash over him, "But it's not _fair_, Wanda! It's not _fair!_ It shouldn't be him, he should--- he should---" and he would begin to whine like a child, "It's not _fair!_ Why must it be him? Why not make it last _longer?_ Why, Wanda, why?" And he would continue to ask her the question that she did not have the answer to, "Why Wanda, why? Tell me why. Please, tell me why? Why can't we change it? Why must it be him?" And over and over again that question would come, perhaps for mere minutes or for hours untill his voice went hoarse from speaking so long.

And no matter how much it tormented him, he would continue the visits. He would never stop them, or she thought. As time went on she was assured of this, because when he could not speak to him in person, Cosmo would continue to go as close as he could to him and he would continue to go back. But he would always say to her when he came back, in a flurried mess, "Why Wanda, why? Can't it be some other way?" And she would not look at him for she knew that that sight would bring her to tears, nor would she say anything because she knew her voice would crack.

And then in a way that betrayed how she felt, she would say helplessly to him, "I don't know Cosmo. I just don't know." And then, even though she knew she shouldn't, she would look at him in the face and trail up to meet his eyes, and she would see the man she loved crumble before her eyes. She would see him be smothered by his sadness and sorrow, and she would see him be drowned in his confusion and his hope that they both knew was futile, and yet he would not let go of any of it. And in minutes he would fall on his knees, and she would see those tears come as if the visits had already stopped, and so she would get up and go to him and hold him to her chest, saying, "Please, Cosmo, please. Just stop the madness."

And though they were meant to be soft words of comfort, he would not take them as such, and it would breed his anger that came out in choked bits, "No," he'd always start, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," over and over again, over and over until she felt herself feel like just hurting him for it, and then just when she thought she had reached her limit, he would stop and go on to new things that she had heard but hundreds of times before. "Not him, I won't stop, he'll be gone soon Wanda I need to see him and you know this just as well as I do," and he would go on, voice turning desperate and pleading, "Please don't make me stop seeing him I need to know he's okay..."

And again he would be overcome with his feelings, choking on his words and seconds later be unable to continue. And so she would take this as her cue and she would hold him tighter, and whisper her words of comfort that never quite passed the level of just being small, tender shushes. It wouldn't matter though, for she knew that nothing she said could make this better, because it was the course of life for it to be as such and a concerned and loving wife could not change all of that. And so she would sit there, for he had fallen to his knees in place at the door, and she would run run her fingers through his hair.

"No love, no," and unknowingly, she would repeat herself constantly just as he had, over and over until the words lost their meaning, "No love, no, it'll be okay." And so she would plead for him to understand, "Just let it go Cosmo, please, stop doing this to yourself, please," and her own voice would crack, but further yet she would persist, though she knew it would not matter. "Just let it go, and stop hurting yourself, stop, please stop," but she would then feel her tears again, because she could think of it no more that just like losing a son, and it hurt so badly she'd barely finish, "He wouldn't want you to be this way."

But somehow, Cosmo would continue to go on like the stubborn child he was as heart, "No," and again he'd repeat himself, and again and again, "Why, Wanda, why?" And then she would think. She would think and think until her head began to pound, and yet he knew that her head hurt, he'd go on and on, "Please, please," he'd say in a pleading voice, "Tell me why. Can't you tell me why?" Over and over, "Please, please, tell me, please Wanda." And oh how she'd wonder, thinking and thinking, but his voice would always interrupt her somehow, but again she'd think, and nothing would come to her.

"Because... Because..." But she could never put a reason after it.

And one fateful day, the visits stopped, and Cosmo would cry longer and harder, and he'd yell and scream, just as she knew he would, and it tore at her. For an entire week the visits did not persist, and Wanda honestly did not think that they would ever persist at all, but after that week Cosmo was gone again, just as when he had actually visited them. But now he was gone longer than ever before, and sometimes, he would not return home at night. It worried her, and one time, she actually went after him just because she had to know.

She would never follow him ever again, because that one time she had seen the truth. Cosmo would go down and visit his grave, and for hours on end he would just sit there, staring at the grave, crying quietly, and then he would begin to talk, just as he had when the visits went on. And it was normal, and Wanda wasn't as worried as she was before, but that all changed in an instant. Cosmo would fall silent, look around, start out quietly, and he would ask the engraved stone, "Why, why? Why Timmy, why?" And soon the softly spoken would grow louder, and the tears would become harder, until soon Cosmo was screaming, not caring if anyone else heard.

And he would scream out all his fears, his angers, but it would always end the same. "Why did you have to leave?" And then Cosmo would drown himself in his pain and misery, and he would fall against the dirt. And he'd start up again, and he'd tear at the grass and beat at the ground, "Why, _why?_" Over and over until he was spent and gone, until there was nothing left of him but the salty moisture that ran down his cheeks in silently flowing rivers. And then for the last time he'd fall against the earth, and he'd curl on his side and go to sleep, "Why did you have to leave?"

And ever since that moment in time, Wanda would never speak of Timmy ever again, knowing that that would be the outcome, and she could not bear to know that the simple mention of a person's name could break her husband like that, or more so that a person could break themselves just as Cosmo had. And it was true, it was not damnation nor was it rape nor torture nor abuse that had brought the strong and powerful man to his knees and cost him his bubbly personality, but himself. And by his own hands and emotions, he had lost it all. And he would tell her, "Love is the slowest form of suicide," but all she would do was offer him a shoulder to cry on that he would no longer accept.

Cosmo could not pretend it was okay any longer. And so when he came home with red puffy eyes and a tearstained face, she could do nothing because fate would continue to keep himself busy. All would fall carefully and delicately into laid out plans that had waited lifetimes to be fufilled. All this this was nothing more than the downtrodden course of life.


End file.
